


Courage to Change the Things I Can

by TT_Angst_Queen



Series: New Beginnings [4]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alcoholics Anonymous, Angst, Episode: s15e01 House Divided, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Post-Paraguay, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT_Angst_Queen
Summary: More talking with Tim, and another roadblock for Tony and Gibbs. Things get worse before they get better.





	Courage to Change the Things I Can

Tony had to take a few minutes to sort through his shock at Tim’s explanation of the two months worth of torture and starvation that his probie and his lover had endured. Tony couldn’t help the thought that went through his head;

 

That maybe if he had been there with Gibbs instead of McGee, maybe he could have prevented it somehow, stopped Gibbs from staying behind in some damned sacrificial attempt to emulate John Wayne.

 

The retired SFA mentally slapped himself in the back of the head at his thoughts. He wouldn’t have been able to stop Gibbs, and he was proud of his Probie for having Gibbs’ six when he wasn’t there. If it wasn’t for Tim, Tony wouldn’t have his lover with him right now, in whatever capacity.

 

Tony had heard Tim’s story, and he noticed that Tim hadn’t really mentioned his own feelings.

 

“Tim, that couldn’t have been easy for you, either.” Tony pointed out, looking at a picture on his desk of the team a year before he left.

 

 _“It wasn’t easy, Tony.”_ Tim acknowledged, voice quiet. _“ The first few days were hell. I wasn't really beaten much by the rebels, but… Gibbs pointed out that I had to watch. That… wasn’t easy. It was almost like I was back in Somalia, watching Saleem smack you around, but a thousand times worse. Saleem preferred truth serum to… to persuade you. El Jefe used waterboarding, fists, knives, whips. Gibbs’ finger was broken over and over.”_ Tim huffed out a shuttery breath.

 

Tony couldn’t help but wince at the repeating of the torture that Gibbs had taken. Staring at his hand, Tony traced with his eyes the scar he had gotten when he had been interrogated by Saleem. The man had only taken a knife to his hand once before deciding a less bloody method was preferred. Tony wondered what it had to be like for Tim, for Gibbs, to go through what they did, and he realized he was lucky with Saleem.

 

_“Gibbs seemed fine for the first week or so, but me, well, I was a mess. I avoided the shrink, avoided talking about it. Food was something that just made me look at like it was a mirage, I would barely eat. But Gibbs eventually got me to stop avoiding the shrink, and she told me to talk to Delilah, and I got… better. Not perfect, but then, it's only been a few months. After I relaxed, got better, I noticed that Gibbs’ reaction when we got back was… wrong.”_

 

Tony frowned, tensing. sitting straight up, he narrowed his eyes.

 

“What do you mean, ‘wrong’, Tim?”

 

_“You remember when Kate died, Gibbs was nice?”_

 

“Yeah, Tim, I remember,” Tony whispered, a pain shooting through his heart at the memory of their old friend. “Gibbs was nice, caring, his masks were down.”  

 

_“Yeah, well this was worse. Gibbs wasn't just nice, he was happy, cheerful, huggy, hell Tony- it was terrifying. But then I got better, and when Gibbs noticed, it was like he just...broke. Vance finally had to put Gibbs on medical leave when he blanked out in the middle of a meeting with SecNav. I tried to come over but he never answered the door. I guess he was with you.”_

 

Cursing himself, Tony nervously tapped his finger on his desk. Clearing his throat, Tony tried to explain.

 

“Uh, look, Tim, Gibbs and I, we uh, we're-”

 

 _“Together, yeah Tony, I know. We_ **_all_ ** _know. You two danced around each other as long as I've known you two. It's fine,”_ McGee chuckled, making Tony blush. How did the former SFA miss something everyone else saw clear as day? _“We're happy for you both.”_

 

Tony leaned back and groaned, rubbing his eyes.

He was relieved that Tim was happy for them but…

 

“It would be happier if the man I fell in love with was actually, ya’ know, _The man I fell in love with_.”

 

 _“Yeah, I understand Tony, believe me, I do. Poor Delilah had to deal with a ghost for a few weeks. You have no clue how happy everyone was when we found out you were back and you two had made up. I had to ban Abby from running over straight away. Everyone is hoping you can bring him out of his funk. God Tony-Gibbs was wasting away, and we were tempted to hospitalize him under orders of Ducky and Medical lack of self-care reason's. When we realized he came to you… you have know clue how much that relieved us.”_ Tim took a breath. _“We're counting on you Tony. You're our only hope.”_

 

Despite himself, Tony couldn't help but chuckle.

 

“Oh, know you are feeling better, McLeah, if you're quoting ‘ _Star Wars’_.”

 

 _“I really am,”_ Tim chuckled, but then huffed. _“But really Tony. Gibbs needs your help, badly. I'm afraid that if you don't we might… lose him. I can't-_ **_we_ ** _can't lose him.”_

 

“I know Tim,” Tony replied, voice heavy. “I don't have another option. I won't fail him, and I won't leave him. Not this time, no matter what.”

 

They talked for a few minutes more before they said goodbye and hung up.

 

When Tony looked at the time after he hung up, he cursed; 0426 hours.

 

He had been talking to Tim for over five hours, and he didn't even notice. Not to mention, Jethro hadn't woken up from a nightmare the whole time, and while that should have put Tony at ease, it only made him tense.

 

For the whole two months that Gibbs had been staying over at his house, not one night had been nightmare free for the older man, not _one_. The fact that the one night he had broken down and called Tim to ask about Jethro would almost be a coincidence. If it wasn't for Gibbs’ Rule 39, that is.

 

_There is no such thing as coincidences._

 

Despite him not wanting to at the moment, Tony was inclined to agree.

 

Muttering a curse after using both hands to rub his face and once again encounter his glasses, he cursed the fact that in his old (blasphemy) age he had lost his one amazing 20/10 eyesight. Without his glasses, he could not longer see properly, and unless he wanted to poke his eye out every morning, he wasn't allowed to drive without visual help. Not that he could really see without them properly anyways even to walk around. Damn his uncle Clive for giving him his bad eyesight.

 

Sterling himself, he got himself off his desk chair and barely stopped himself from dragging his feet or looking like a guilty kid when he opened the door, and looked at the chair placed on the opposite side against the wall.

 

“So I guess you heard all that.”

 

“Yup.” Jethro's voice was rough, and Tony felt his heart clench when he noticed the tear tracks on the man's face, and his red rimmed eyes.

 

“I needed to know, Jethro.” Tony said quietly. “I needed to know what happened so I can help you.”

 

“Nobody can help me.”

 

A small flash of light caught Tony's eye, and he looked to the ground and saw a half empty bottle of whiskey beside the chair. That bottle wasn't here when he woke up that morning.

 

“Jethro, Did you seriously have a relapse?” Tony tried to keep his voice quiet, but he couldn't help the layer of steel that crept into his tone.

 

He had stopped drinking not only for his daughter, whom he didn't want to see the effect that alcohol could have on people like he did, but also for Gibbs, who had admitted that he had started going to AA meetings with a friend who had urged him to go with him. He never told Tony who, but he guessed it was the new British MI5 officer.

 

Gibbs had told him with a hint of a smile on his face that he had taken his six month chip a couple weeks before he found out Tony had come back. He could tell at the time that Gibbs was extremely proud of himself about it.

 

Everyone who's really _knew_ Gibbs knew he had a drinking problem. Gibbs was a functioning Alcoholic for so many years that when he finally seeked help, and eventually got sober after Tony had left, it was like a new person emerged. Gibbs had told him that the emotions he had kept dulled with alcohol, started coming back, and with it most of his walls that he had built up against everyone had come down, resulting in a softer, kinder, but still stern Gibbs. The older man admitted that he had forgotten what it was like to go to bed without the help of a finger or four of Jack.

 

Gibbs was proud of himself, one of the few happy emotions he had seen on the man.

 

And now…

 

“It was just a sip,” Gibbs’ slurred words made Tony sigh sadly, and gently kneel down to take the bottle and place it out of his lover's reach.

 

“It was half the bottle, Jethro.” Tony pointed out, upset that his lover had destroyed the small bit of progress he had made.

 

“Was’sit? Oh,” Jetho snickered, then frowned. “My sponsor 's go’na 'ill me…” he slurred, then lurched forward, making Tony reach forward to catch him. “I need ta’ call 'im, 'ony, he needs ta’ know, promised him-” Gibbs suddenly retched, and Tony got out of the way as Gibbs vomited on his (thankfully) wooden floor.

 

“Sorry…” Jethro slurred, looking at Tony with pitiful, wide blue eyes, tears cling to his lashes. Tony could see a universe of hurt and pain in the man's eyes, and he hitched a breath.

 

“I'll clean it up later, Jet.” Tony patted the man's hair, smiling sadly at the purr it brought forth.

 

“Whose your sponsor, Gibbs, can you tell me so I can call him?”  

 

“Reeves… but don’ tell 'im I tol’ you, 's suppos’ ta’ be ‘nonomus, k’?”

And then he passed out.

 

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that night, or morning if you were picky, Tony lifted Gibbs up into his arms, avoiding the puddle of sick, and brought him to the living room, placing the man on his couch.

 

Staring for a moment, Tony brushed the long hair out of his lover's face, looking at the mans pale and drawn features. After a few moments he pushed himself up and reached for his lover's cell on the table, and looked up the number he needed.

 

“Hello, is this Clayton Reeves? Yes, I'm Tony. Yeah, Ih, listen. I hear you're Jethro's sponsor, and he told me to call you. No, he's not ok, he's relapsed…”

 

**_TBC_ **

  
  
  
  
  
  



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